Cutting Room Floor
by seilleanmor
Summary: Missing scenes from the series as a whole. For Alexis.
1. In the Belly of the Beast

_For my darling Alexis (you may know her as stanacatic on tumblr). There are only forty minutes in an episode, not enough to show everything, and so she gave me a list of scenes she wishes we could have seen and I'm going to fill in the gaps for her. Not in any sort of order._

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_**6.17 In the Belly of the Beast**_** – reunion scene**

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Castle phone rings in his pocket and he tugs it out with trembling hands. His body is a livewire, a mess of panic and guilt and _ohgodKate_. The number flashing up on his screen isn't one he recognises – he already knows it isn't her because it wasn't her ringtone – but maybe it's. . .something. A ransom call?

Could be.

He swats at Esposito, pulls the detective's attention away from Captain Gates, and then he swipes his finger across the screen to answer the call. "Castle."

"Babe- it's. . .it's me." His fiancée's voice comes crawling across the distance between them, the phone line (and god knows what other trauma) making it crackly and foreign but still her, such a flood of relief that he's sitting down before he even realises it.

"Kate. Kate. Where are you?" He grits out, scrubbing a hand down his face. There's a sudden flurry of activity as Espo and Ryan realise that it's Beckett on the phone, that she's alive, and hurry from the bullpen to find Tory and Gates. "Sweetheart, oh God, where are you?"

There's a strangled noise that could be a sob, a groan of protest as if she's trying to stand but her body just won't cooperate with her. He can imagine all too readily what she's been through and it makes his heart thrash in his chest, his whole body thrumming with the desperate need to just get to her.

"I'm not sure. Can you- trace the call?"

The team comes running back into the bullpen and Rick's head snaps up. Tory makes it to him first and holds her hand out; he switches the phone to speaker before he hands it over and follows Tory to the tech room. "Tory's here right now, Beckett. We're tracing it. Are you safe?"

"I- think so?" She says. There are noises like branches breaking underfoot, a crash, and then she hisses. He paces back and forth in front of the desk as Tory fiddles with his phone, working as fast as she can to get a trace on the call.

"Where are you, Kate?"

"I don't _know_." She moans, so brittle that even Esposito is clenching his fists and turning away. "The woods. They took me out here to. . .to kill me. But Elena, she- I'm safe. But cold. Please hurry."

Oh God. He will do anything, _anything_, to get to her. "We are, Kate. Just hold on for me baby, please. Just hold on."

"M' tired." She says, but before he can beg her not to fall asleep, not to succumb to shock in the middle of the woods, Tory's voice is ringing out triumphantly.

"I got it!"

"Let's go." Espo says, pushing on Castle's shoulder to get him to move.

Grabbing his cell phone back from Tory, he takes it off of speaker and presses it to his ear again. He doesn't even hear the pained crackle of her breathing anymore and the bottom falls out of his world for the fourth or fifth time today. "Kate, are you there? Beckett!"

"I'm here." She whispers. He knows what it means when her voice gets like this, her words slurred and her breath support gone. Means she's wiped out, about to crash.

Mostly, it comes at night with the sweat-slick brush of her skin against his and her smile buried at the crease of his neck. But not this time.

This time, she is going to die if they don't get there soon and get her to a hospital. "I need you to stay awake for me, okay? Stay on the phone, keep talking to me."

"I'm gonna try to find the van." She murmurs, her voice quiet and low and pitched just for him. Even the woods are watching; he can hear the way her PTSD is creeping slowly inside of her, rotting in her guts and sending fissures out across her skin.

If she has a panic attack alone in those woods-

They have to get to her. "Espo."

"I know, Castle."

He lets himself be hustled out of the elevator and into the parking garage. Down here, the air cool and the lights too bright, he can almost hear the clack of Beckett's heels on the tarmac at his side. "Beckett. What van?"

"Harden's. It'll be warmer." Her teeth are chattering, he hears it in her voice, and already he's planning. Scrolling through in his mind all the hot, beautiful countries he's going to take her too. The beaches they're going to stretch out on and let the sun lick over their skins.

Esposito opens the door and pushes Castle into the back of his cruiser, sliding into the driver's seat. Ryan joins him in the passenger side and starts fiddling with the GPS as they peel out of the parking garage and join the flow of traffic out of the city.

"Kate, we're in the car. We're on the way. Just hold on for me, please." He begs her, hears the discordant night-noise of the woods in the background of their call.

It's nearing six am; he will have his arms around her by sunrise.

She's just breathing over the line next to him, just breathing, and then he hears a strangled sound of relief and she chokes out another sob. "Castle- found the van. Took the keys from his body."

"Get warm, Kate. Get warm. But please don't drive. Don't move. Sit tight." He feels his words jumbling together, crowding inside his mouth to get out. He can't decide which are the most important ones, and more than anything he just wants to say that he loves her.

But he won't do that, won't say that. Not until he can see her face.

"Don't think I could." She manages a strangled laugh for him, and then he hears the roar of the van's heaters on full blast and prays that they'll kick in quickly. "Castle-" she moans. "Hurts."

"I know" He doesn't, he has no _idea_ what they've done to her. But she's breathing, talking, she made it to the van. And that's so much better than what he was imagining. Her bleeding out all alone on the forest floor with rotten detritus crowding her nose.

"When will you be here?"

He leans forward, glances at the ETA the navigation system is showing. Shit. "Uh- about forty minutes."

"Local PD will be with her in five." Ryan says, twisting in his seat to look at Castle.

Right, of course. They're not the knights in shining armour. And yes, they're charging to her rescue, but the boys have already been in touch with the New Jersey cops. "Cops will be with you in five minutes, Kate. We'll meet you there. Can you put the van lights on? Make it easier for them to see you."

"Cops. . .but not you." She says, as if testing the truth of it.

"Not me. But soon. I'm on my way. I'm coming, Kate." He pleads with her, the words like benediction. He wants to be the one to rescue her, silly though that may be. But he can't be, he can't be, and he's so grateful for the New Jersey PD, for whoever will be there with her in about three minutes, now.

He hears a sigh, and then she's coughing, a terrible sound that lasts forever. Lasts so long that he hears voices over the line, the blessed relief of the cops that have finally made it to her. "Detective Beckett? We've got an ambulance here."

There are noises he doesn't understand, tries not to dwell on, and then a man's voice comes over the line. "Hello?"

"Hi." He splutters, scrubbing a hand down his face. "I'm Rick Castle, Beckett's fiancé. How is she?"

"The EMTs have got her, Mr Castle. She's just getting some oxygen, but she seems okay. Coherent, at the very least."

He's trembling now, and he feels the too-warm slip of tears down his cheeks. How badly he wants to be there for this, hold her hand while she gets checked out. "Thank you."

"I'm going to have to hang up, I'm afraid. What's your ETA?"

"About twenty five minutes." He says, and then the officer on the other end of the call is saying something else he doesn't even hear. The dial tone shakes him out of it and he stares at his phone, rests it on his knee in case it rings again. In case she calls back.

He rests his cheek to the window, the cold spreading its numbing fingers out wide across his face. When they finally, finally make it to where she is the salt has made his face stiff and his eyes are swollen. The boys are kind enough not to mention it.

The cruiser pulls to a stop and Rick goes tumbling out of the door, falling to one knee in the gravel. Scrambling to his feet, he runs for the ambulance and climbs halfway inside before he realises that she isn't here. "Where's Beckett?"

The EMT offers him a sympathetic look. "She went to take the cops to the body."

"You let her?" He says, incredulous. Can't understand why a _medical professional_ would let her just go wandering about in the woods in the middle of the night.

Well. Not the middle of the night anymore. The horror has rolled right around into morning and the sky has that bruised, purpling look to it as if fighting the sunrise.

"She seemed up to it. And it. . .didn't seem like she'd take no for an answer."

That has the corner of his mouth quirking up almost entirely without his permission. Of course she would want to be strong in front of the Jersey cops. Of course she'd persuade the EMTs that she's fine.

It's only him, only him who has the honour of seeing her crumble. Who gets to hold the cherished pieces of her in his hands until she's strong enough to put them back together. "Right. Sounds like her."

There's a commotion at the border where the woods meet the edge of the parking lot and his head snaps towards it. He watches the wide swing of the flashlight beams, figures all clad in black shifting like shadow among the trees. They seem ancient, but not wise or loving as he usually imagines. These woods, these trees, have seen a terror they keep knotted inside, safe behind the bark.

He moves away from the ambulance, headed to join Ryan and Esposito at the boundary to the woods. And then one of the shadowy figures detaches itself from the seething mass of bodies and comes flying towards him.

Kate's hands come up around his shoulders and he lifts her off of the ground, squeezing tight as he bands his arms at her waist. Her nose is buried at his neck, her tears hot where they slip underneath the collar of his shirt, and he palms the back of her head as he sets her back on her feet.

"Kate. Kate. Thank god you're okay."

"You're here." She breathes out, trembling hands cradling his cheeks, and then she's smudging his mouth with her kiss.

He walks her backwards until she's leaning against the side of the boys' cruiser, his forehead bowed at hers, and he kisses her hard. Even with the woods watching. When he eventually breaks away his cheeks are wet with both of their tears, but she's smiling at him.

"Castle." She says, and then nothing more. He knows that feeling all too well, the stumbling block of a name. How everything else can be contained inside of it.

He tucks her hair back behind her ears. Wet and lank, and her face is scraped raw. There's the glisten of ointment the EMTs must have given her, but she winces when he touches her temple just underneath the bloom of pain. "What happened to you? Kate."

"I can't- I'll have to give a statement. Don't want to have to go through it twice."

She bites her lip, looks up at him with so much trepidation. As if he would ever force her to tell him anyway. Well, yes, so in the early days of their togetherness they did fight about her refusal to share. But this isn't that. It's so very, very different.

"We've got your fleece." He says instead, peeling her out of the coat that has been carelesasasly draped over her shoulders. He pulls open the rear door of the cruiser and reaches inside, finds the thick NYPD sweater she keeps in her locker at the precinct.

The one she wore when he pulled her out of the Hudson, and just like then her hair is sodden. Only this time, he gets to kiss her. He gets to knot their fingers together and keep her close at his side, feel the way she squeezes when the boys come back over to them.

"Beckett, glad you're okay." Esposito says gruffly, drawing her in for a brusque hug. "You good to head back to the precinct?"

"Yes. Please." She nods.

The four of them pile inside of the cruiser, Beckett in the middle seat instead of next to the window so she can lean against his side. Her cheek pillows against his bicep and she plays with his fingers where they rest at his thigh, smoothing over his hand again and again like collecting cobwebs.

"I wrote you a letter." She mumbles, quiet enough that the boys won't hear from up front. "CSU are gonna find it. I don't want you to read it when they do."

"Okay. I won't." He promises, a little surprised to discover that he has no desire to do so. A letter that she wrote for him, thinking that he'd be reading it after her death?

Yeah. . .that's not something he needs.

"It's about how much I love you. How this – us - is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me." She murmurs, grinning when his face goes slack with shock.

She kisses him, tender and a little apologetic, and the daring sweep of her tongue at his bottom lip brings his words flooding back. "Me too, Kate. I love you, too."

He waits until she closes her eyes, and then he lets his own slide shut as well.

It's over.

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**Tumblr:** katiehoughton

**Twitter:** seilleanmor


	2. The Good, The Bad & The Baby

_**The Good, The Bad &amp; The Baby**_** – Thanksgiving dinner**

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"Oh this is so exciting! Our family is just growing by leaps and bounds; if we keep this up darling we're going to need a bigger table." Kate hears Martha say, exuberant as ever. The four of them have been busy preparing dinner all evening and Beckett has had to swat her fiancé away every time he tried to get a look at what she was putting in the killer stuffing she boasted to him about earlier.

Eventually, she managed to send him scurrying off with his tail between his legs when she made something up about feeling like he doesn't trust her cooking skills. She had hammed up the emotion, let her face transform into a mask of hurt for a moment and Castle had kissed her, soft and apologetic before he went away.

It gave her time to plot with Martha, heads bent together as they whispered their plans. Castle's mother had picked up his costume on her way home earlier and hidden it on the couch; he's been so distracted with the food and the teasing touches Kate keeps brushing over the skin of his waist that he hasn't even noticed.

Once all of the food was almost done, Kate slipped away to get ready, and now she's hovering by the door of their bedroom, listening to the chatter of their family. "Exactly twenty minutes till turkey time."

"Pi is on his way, and Beckett's dad just called. He'll be here any minute." Alexis says, and it sends a frisson of delight through her. Usually at Thanksgiving, she and her father head upstate to visit Aunt Theresa. Her father's sister is kind enough, but there's always a gloomy undercurrent to the festivities. Johanna's absence is conspicuous during the holidays, and it's hard on both Kate and Jim.

Not this year. This year, the Castles have opened their arms to Beckett and her father and she's unspeakably grateful for it.

"Excellent, and where's Beckett?" She hears Castle say and draws in a deep breath, closing her eyes for just a moment. That's her cue.

Stepping out of the bedroom, she strides across the loft in bare feet to meet her fiancé and his family in the kitchen. The costume is so very uncomfortable, the label inside of it itching at her ribs, but Castle's gaze seems to be stuck on the twin pigtails that hang down past her shoulders.

"Katherine, what on earth are you wearing?" Martha says, playing up her shock, and Kate has to avoid the older woman's eyes so she doesn't laugh. The two of them had great fun plotting this out, trading text messages back and forth whenever Kate could carve out a minute in the midst of her case. Which was fairly easy, what with Castle constantly being distracted by baby Benny.

Martha had not only heard her son's less than favourable words about her cooking; she had also heard him lay a trap for Kate. Together, they decided to bait him, let him think he'd been successful in embarrassing her, only to turn that embarrassment on its head.

"My outfit, your family tradition?" She stutters out, pinning her fiancé under a scrutinous gaze.

He at least has the decency to look faintly guilty, even as he rakes his eyes over her outfit and the corner of his mouth quirks upwards in amusement. "Yeeaaah. . .you do know I was kidding about that, right?"

"You know, I actually wasn't sure about that, so I figured if this isn't a Castle family tradition then maybe it should be." Kate says sardonically, reaching for the costume and pushing it against his chest. "Better put this on, pilgrim."

Striding past him, she gives Martha a high five and heads around the table to curl an arm at Alexis' waist, squeezing Castle's daughter close. She'd explained the plan while Castle was using the bathroom earlier, so Alexis has been well aware of his imminent shame.

"It's really great to have you here, Kate." She murmurs, offering Beckett a soft smile. "Usually I have to prank Dad on my own, so it's nice to have help."

Wheeling around on the spot, Rick pouts at the three of them even as he's still clutching the costume to his chest. "Really? You're gonna make me wear this?"

"You deserve much worse, my boy." Martha laughs, patting her son's chest on her way to join Beckett and Alexis. Castle's mother sets a hand at Kate's shoulder and squeezes, frowning at her son. "Honestly Richard, what possessed you to be so cruel to your wonderful fiancée?"

His face falls at that and he gapes at Kate, that furrow between his brows that she so loves to soothe away with the touch of his mouth. "I didn't mean to be cruel. Kate-"

"I know." She murmurs, striding back towards him and lacing her arms at his waist. Behind them, she can hear the sounds of Martha ushering Alexis away to give the two of them some privacy, and her heart soars in gratitude. Tact is probably not an attribute high up on the list one would credit Martha Rodgers with, but Castle's mother has gotten closer than ever to Kate since the engagement, and she's pretty good at being able to tell what Beckett needs, now.

Castle's mouth skims her hairline, her cheek, before his lips meet hers. His kiss is gentle and reverent, sending a cold wash of cleansing delight through her. When she breaks away, it's only to palm his cheek and smile softly up at him. "I didn't think you were being _cruel_, exactly. But it was sort of like you were taking advantage of the fact that I don't know your family's traditions. I'm not really. . .a part of it."

"I'm so sorry, Kate. I didn't think of it that way. For the record, that was never my intention. I just wanted to have some fun, tease you a little bit."

He shrugs, and then he makes his eyebrows dance and rakes his eyes down her body, humming appreciatively. It makes her flush and she swats at him, turns to head back to the bedroom. "Stop it. I have to go change before Dad and Pi get here. But maybe if you're very good, I'll try it on again later."

"Hey, what a coincidence!" Her fiancé smirks, following hot on her heels as she moves for the bedroom. "I have to change too. No way am I wearing _plaid_ for Thanksgiving dinner with my future father-in-law."

She turns back around just in time to catch his wrinkled nose, the look of true disdain on his face, and she stops him with a finger at his chest. Trailing all the way down to his waist and around, she slips her hand into the back pocket of his jeans and squeezes. "I like you in plaid."

"Stop it." He grumbles, snatching her mischievous hand and pushing it against her own chest. Skirting her body where she's blocking the doorframe, he heads for the closet, shrugging off clothes as he goes. "I assume Mother and Alexis are going to change, too? I did wonder why they looked so pilgrimy."

"Alexis is, yes." Kate sinks to sit at the end of their bed, drawing her legs up underneath her as she starts unwinding one of the pigtail braids. "Castle. . .she asked me to help her pick out her dress earlier today."

He pokes his head back out of the closet at that to stare at her, his face alight with wonder, and then he comes striding right out with his button down shirt only half fastened and he pushes a hot and devastating kiss against her mouth, almost knocking her flat against the mattress with the force of it.

"My daughter likes you." He breathes against her mouth, nimble fingers heading south and slowly drawing up the hem of her costume.

It takes her a moment to muster the willpower, but then she gets her palms against his chest and pushes him away from her. "I know. And we will celebrate that later, I promise. But we really need to change and get back out there. Unless you want my dad to know what we were doing?"

"No, no. I'm dressed, I'm dressed." He cries, so much melodrama in his everyday life. Castle finishes up the rest of his buttons and tugs on his slacks, fastening his belt and checking himself over in the mirror. Once he's satisfied, he turns back to Kate and the latent adoration on his face makes her heart pound. "I'll see you out there. For the record, you make a breathtaking Pocahontas."

"Thank you." She hums, standing up from the bed and peeling the costume up over the top of her head. In just her underwear, she presses her body close to his and lifts up on tiptoe, brushing a barely-there kiss against his mouth. "Now, _go_. Host."

He scurries off without any further prompting from her and she hears the knock at the door as she's slipping her dress over her head. Stepping into her heels, Kate pins her hair half-up, letting a few stray pieces come loose to fall around her face, and heads out into the living room to join her family.

Apparently her father and Pi met in the lobby and took the elevator up together; they haven't met before and she's almost disappointed that she didn't get to watch that particular encounter. Her father must hear the clack of her heels against the hardwood because he excuses himself from his conversation with Rick and turns to face her.

"Katie-bug, there you are. You look beautiful."

"Thanks, Dad." She blushes, catching her fiancé's eye over her father's shoulder. Castle grins at her, lifting his eyebrows and nodding in agreement with her dad. "Can I get you a drink?"

"I got it!" Martha calls out and Jim laughs, heading to join Castle's mother in the kitchen when she beckons him.

Alexis and Pi are canoodling over by the couch and Kate plants her hands at Castle's biceps when he tries to turn and grumble at them, holds him firmly in place. "Don't you dare. It's Thanksgiving. Leave them alone."

"Distract me?" He says, and although it's playful there's a note of real need there too. Circling her thumbs at the crease where his arms meet his shoulders, Kate leans in and kisses him softly. Mindful of both of their parents and Castle's daughter in very close proximity, but enough that he should at least stop thinking about how Alexis and Pi are probably doing the exact same thing.

And really, they should probably get used to kissing with their families watching. In just a few short months, they'll do so in front of all of the people they care about, and she'll be wearing a white dress. The thought makes her smile and her excitement is infectious; when she tugs her mouth away Castle is grinning too.

"This is my best Thanksgiving ever."

"Me too." She hums to him, and then Martha's attracting everyone's attention again when she opens the oven and proclaims to her son that the bird is ready for his attentions.

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By the time dessert is done with, Castle feels like he may actually explode. He does tend to glut himself on Thanksgiving dinner – it's just so _good_ – and later he'll probably pass out in a stupor. But hopefully, when he does so he'll have the sleepy, cat-like warmth of his fiancée at his side.

Ha, that's good too. Cat-like for Kate. He huffs a laugh, gets a raised eyebrow from Beckett. She doesn't even fully turn to face him, engrossed in conversation with Pi about something he's not even listening too, but that's even better. Just the sharp flare of her attention to encompass him and then spooling back in to focus on Alexis' boyfriend again.

Rick catches his mother wringing her hands and groans, leaning back in his chair and pressing a hand to his forehead. That action from her always precludes some sort of declaration and he holds his breath, waiting for it.

"So, Richard, Katherine. You two seemed to take rather well to the whole parenting lark, I thought. Should I be expecting an expansion of my brood of grandchildren in the near future?"

Kate's cheeks flame and she buries her head in her hands, groaning when Jim chortles a laugh. "Parenting, Katie?"

"There was a baby involved with the case we just closed and Castle and I took care of him for a couple days. That's all, Dad." She hastens to explain. He's at the head of the table, but rather than being bracketed by redheads he has his daughter on one side and Kate on the other, so she's near enough to snake her hand underneath the table and dig her nails into his thigh.

He yelps, jerking in his chair and pouting at her, but she's sending him a pleading look, and then he understands. It's one thing to talk hypothetically about it with him, quite another to make any definitive statements in the presence of her father.

Interestingly enough, it's Alexis who saves the day. "I hardly count as a brood, Gram. And maybe you should at least wait until after the wedding before you start on the baby crusade?"

"I'm just teasing, darlings." Martha laughs, waving her hand in the air so her bracelets clack together.

The conversation shifts, moving to Pi's research instead, but Rick is still hopelessly ensnared in the image of Kate Beckett holding a baby, Kate Beckett murmuring soothing nonsense into the shell of the tiny ear and grinning at him from over top of the soft little head.

He wants it, so badly. Right from that case with the missing little girl the first year they met, he's known that Kate Beckett is going to be the most incredible mother. Back then, he was intrigued for days, wondering whether that was part of her life plan. Whether it had been once, but had been snatched away from her just as easily as her mother was. He did a pretty terrible job of convincing himself that his fascination was purely professional curiosity.

Now, he knows for sure that if Kate ever does have kids, it will be with him. He'll be the lucky man who gets to share in that with her, gets to watch her blossom as a mother. Leaning over the table, he manages to get his mouth against her ear and she shudders, her hand coming up to let her fingers circle his wrist.

"Just for that, my mother will be the last person we tell when you get pregnant, deal?"

"Deal."


	3. Linchpin

_Alexis, m__o ghr__à__idh__, thank you for your heart and your happiness and for sharing them so readily with me._

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_**Linchpin**_** \- after their escape from the car**

* * *

Rick Castle has never been a spiritual man.

Oh, sure, he believes in all the creepy and interesting stuff, the things that made his seven year old self curl up underneath his covers with a flashlight and read horror until his blood was pounding so hard in his veins that he couldn't see straight. Little Ricky Rodgers was enthralled by all things supernatural, lapped up the folklore and the ghost stories and the myths that flew along the corridors of the boarding schools he attended.

He could always tell when a really great story would be coming his way soon at Edgewyck, because a timid, pale little slip of a boy called Eric lived three doors down from Rick, and he would skip breakfast the night after a particularly chilling one. Whenever Rick would see Eric at breakfast, standing his spoon upright in the thick paste that passed for porridge rather than eating it, his palms would sweat and his heart would kick double-time and the excitement would have him distracted from all of his classes that day.

It's fair to say that he loves all things paranormal, but spirits and guidance and all that stuff has never really been his thing. Not until this moment.

It's. . .weird. From where he is in the backseat he can see Kate's hand moving slowly through the water, thin and pale like a cadaver, but he can't move into her reach and reassure her that he's alright because that would mean moving away from the air pocket trapped beneath her seat and he doesn't particularly feel like drowning today.

He can't see anything of her other than that hand, and when it goes limp a strange calm settles inside him. Suddenly hyperaware of every part of his surroundings, each individual piece of flotsam and each fibre of the seat that scratches at his cheek, Rick finally manages to free Beckett's gun from where it is trapped.

Kate's body is unmoving - he can tell only from the sudden cease of the water stirring around her - and he knows that she's gone under and is trying to spare every precious molecule of oxygen. For just a moment, panic comes thick and fast at the edges of his vision, but then the calm is back and he does what needs to be done.

The shot rings loud even under the water and the flash blinds him for a moment. When his vision clears again, he could swear he sees a face pressed up against the glass window of the car. For just a second, and only a shadowy half-formed thing. It's not benevolent, this presence. In fact, it stirs him into action and he barrels through the water and torques his body around the steering column to get to her.

Eyes closed, she seems almost peaceful, were it not for the deathly kiss of blue around her mouth. Rick rears back as far as he can and kicks out the window, feeling the reverb all the way up into his hip as his bones jar. By now his lungs are burning and he has to fight the stupid impulse to suck in a breath that just isn't there as he untangles the withered remains of Kate's seatbelt from around her body and hooks an arm at her waist, somehow managing to free her from the seat and guide her out of the window.

He follows, the breadth of his shoulders slipping through an impossibly small space, and then he curls an arm at Kate's waist and points himself towards the surface and kicks with everything he has. His lungs are flaming now, but more concerning is the parts of him that are already going quiet.

This water - the Hudson in February - should be freezing, but he doesn't even feel it and that's how he knows they're both in trouble. Already his body is shutting down and Kate is thinner than him, succumbs more quickly to the cold. It's a lesson they learned a year ago, clutching at each other in a freezer, and he will not lose her because he's too slow to get her warm.

When Rick breaks the surface of the water he doesn't even realise that he's gasping in breaths that burn in his lungs, the scream of his body merely background noise to the desperate way he battles to keep Kate's head above water.

She isn't breathing.

Her nose presses at his neck and the weight of her body drapes against his and he truly has no idea how he's going to do this. Kate is a deadweight in his grip and he struggles his way through the water with her and towards the wall, pointing himself towards a ladder affixed to the ash-stained brick.

It's a battle, the cold making his body shut down so quickly he hardly has time to realise it. He's still shivering, at least; Kate is still as the grave in his arms. The water laps at his mouth and nose as he swims, liquid fingers curling into his throat and making him choke.

If he's coughing, he's breathing, and he doesn't recall ever having been so grateful for the work of his lungs. When he makes it to the ladder exhaustion has him trembling, but he manages to prop Kate against the brick and keep an arm around her, his free hand curled around one of the rungs to stop them from floating away again.

For a terrible moment, he remains still. No idea what to do, how to begin rescuing himself and the woman he loves from their deaths. The immediate danger seems over, what with the oxygen making it to his lungs and everything, but he knows the cold is just as deadly.

And Kate is still not breathing.

He can't get them both up the ladder. Not like this. Rick does the only thing he can think of and lets go of the rung. Not Kate, never Kate, but he needs a hand free. He opens her mouth and then pinches her nose closed and breathes for her, offers some of his own precious air for her to share.

The shock of it makes her gasp and she arches, head thrown backwards and rolling against the brick. She's still not with him, but that gasp was like an angelic chorus and he clutches tighter at her, breathes for her one more time.

And then her mouth opens wide as a fish and her eyes fly open to meet his. She stares at him and then she heaves, coughing up river water right back into the belly of the thing itself. He wants to do something to comfort her, stroke her hair back from her face maybe, but he has to get them out of the river.

"Kate." He says, gets no response from her. Eyes wide and darker than he's ever seen them, her body convulses as she coughs. Rick treads water and steadfastly refuses to let the helplessness take hold. "Beckett. Breathe. Listen to me."

The sharp flint to his words captures her attention and she stops coughing, sucking in a breath big enough that he feels her chest extend to brush his. He gives her a moment to get it under control, figure out the rhythm of her lungs again, and then he hauls her against him until his mouth meets her ear.

"We have to get out of the water. We're going to use the ladder. You first."

"I can't." She moans, her head rolling against his shoulder. Still not really lucid, then, but at least she understands what it is he's asking of her. Hopefully that means she can handle the ladder, too.

He fists his hand in the material of her jacket when it seems like she might start to slip under again, his heart pounding too hard. He hasn't got the energy to spare; she really needs to stop terrifying him. "You can. One rung at a time. I'll be right behind you."

"Rick-"

"We don't have a choice, Kate. We'll die if we stay in here much longer. Ladder. Now."

It always amazes him, the core of steel that Detective Beckett is. Kate is a softer thing, wrapped around that iron centre, and more than anything he loves to watch that strength ripple through the woman he loves. She nods at him and then she turns and reaches for one of the rungs.

The ladder - thank God - descends right to the water and the gaps between the rungs are small. Even with her body battling her for every movement, he has faith that she'll manage it.

He helps as much as he can, keeps her steady and flat against the wall so it's harder for the wind to saw at her. Tears course down her cheeks and her teeth chatter so hard he worries she'll do permanent damage, but Kate makes it up that ladder and disappears at the top.

Adrenaline mostly, he assumes, because she was far more nimble than her hypothermic body should really have allowed. Rick swallows and steels himself. Right. His turn.

The moment he gets both hands on the rungs and his feet too he knows he can't do this. He's stuck here, clutching at the iron bars and utterly unable to make any progress upwards. And it's fine. Kate is safe on the dock and someone will find her, get her to a hospital and keep her warm.

He has just about resigned himself to his fate and then Kate's face appears over the top of the harbour wall. She looks paler than he's ever seen her and she's shaking hard, but she's back with him now. He can see the fire that sparks in her eyes even from way down here in the water.

"Ca-Castle, get your. . .get your ass up here n-now." She calls down to him. He imagines that if her words hadn't shattered around the ice in her throat it might have been a little more intimidating, but even so it helps.

Rick steels himself and forces his wretched body upwards and towards the haven of Kate's voice. He's selfish enough to be glad that she doesn't give up calling to him, even though he's well aware that she needs to save that energy.

There's a precarious moment when his foot slips and his heart leaps into his throat and he hears Kate cry out from somewhere above him as he almost, almost topples backward into the drink. That would be the end of him and they both know it; there's no way he can make it up this ladder a second time.

The top is the worst part, heaving his sodden frame up over the lip of the wall but he makes it, sprawling onto his back and staring up at the godless sky. Kate's face looms over him and then she collapses down too, her body mashed up close against his side.

"Are you okay?" He manages to ask her, after several failed attempts.

"C-cold."

It's an entirely unnecessary response, obviously, but he summons a chuckle from deep in the still-warm recesses of his belly and reaches for her hand. Well, he tries to, but his fingers are useless lumps of flesh now and he couldn't hold her hand even if he did actually manage to find it in the first place.

"Have to move." He huffs, watching his breath cloud above him. February in New York is cruel even without a soak in the Hudson, and the more rational part of his brain gives a final, pitiful yell that his demise is imminent before it shuts down completely and leaves him in peace.

It's nice here, laying with Kate. He might stay a while.

"R-rick. Get up. Building. Warm."

"Can't." He huffs petulantly, letting his eyes close again. He knows there's a warehouse just a few yards away and that there are lights on, shadows in the windows. People inside.

The CIA are tracking them, probably, but they're nowhere close to where Kate's car was slammed into the water and so God knows how long it will take for the cavalry to show up. He's just about to let sleep take over him, and then he feels Kate's mouth open at his neck and his whole body jolts hard. He bites his tongue and a retort about asking her to kiss it better swims somewhere in the depths of his brain, never quite making it to the surface.

"Rick. Don't sleep. Can't do this without you." He hears Kate saying and somehow, he manages to peel apart the icicles of his lashes and look at her.

"M' here. Awake."

Kate sits up first and her hands bat at him in something he assumes is supposed to be her helping him get upright as well. He forces his body to cooperate and he follows her lead, sits up with her and their shoulders push hard together as they lean on each other.

What comes next? Right. Legs.

He bends his knees experimentally, surprised to find that they do still respond to him. Just about. Rick gets his feet underneath him and pushes upwards with everything he has, making it to standing even as every part of his body revolts in protest. He's precarious, swaying, but he makes it and then he can tug her up with him.

An arm bands around her and he brings her in against his side, the two of them stumbling towards the enormous warehouse door that even from here he can see is cracked partially open. Shock makes them giddy and he laughs, loud and ridiculous as they stumble across the tarmac and in through the door.

The heads of several workers whip around to look at them and then there's uproar, too much shouting. One of the guys produces a chair and he sinks down into it and pulls Kate into his lap. Like hell is he letting her go now.

There are blankets draped around them, mugs of soup pressed into their hands and then one of the guys is clicking his fingers in Rick's face.

Rude. He was just sleeping for a little while. No need for that. "What?"

"You two need to get those clothes off. We have some high vis stuff you can wear until the ambulance gets here." The man gruffs out. His beard is frightening but there are kindly eyes beneath the brim of his hat.

Rick lets the man peel his still-dead fingers from around the mug of soup and then the man is doing the same to Kate and helping her up from where she was still sitting on him. He points them in the direction of a storeroom so they can have some privacy to change and they just about fall through the door.

The moment they're inside Kate starts tugging at her clothes. She gets her jacket off, then her slacks and then the long sleeved shirt before Rick even realises that he's unabashedly staring. Her skin looks cold and clammy but still gorgeous, and his mouth goes totally dry.

And then she's reaching behind herself and unhooking the clasp of her bra and his eyes slam closed. "Kate?"

"Everything off, Castle." She huffs. He turns his back on her and starts on his own clothes, has to battle with his button down for quite some time. He's getting nowhere, and then Kate appears at his side in bright orange pants with reflective silver stripes and a men's white shirt that drowns her, a fresh blanket back around her shoulders.

Her fingers come to his buttons and she frees him from his shirt, unfastens the buckle of his belt before she steps back to let him finish undressing. He tugs off all of his clothes, not even caring if Kate is watching, and he climbs his way into a matching outfit and drapes another blanket around his own shoulders.

They look at each other, and he expects her to turn back for the door and stride back out into the warehouse and the gaggle of men falling over themselves trying to rescue the gorgeous, half-drowned woman who has stumbled into their midst. Instead, Kate steps in close and wraps her arms around his waist, her head tucked neatly underneath his chin.

"Are you getting feeling back?"

"Yes." He grunts, because it's more than true. The pain of blood rushing back into his extremities is excruciating and he's having to fight not to cry out, but he's glad for it. Better that than the terrifying silence of his fingers and toes.

The door flies open and EMTs crowd into the room, heading for Kate first, and Rick slumps gratefully into a chair at the pressure against his shoulder from someone's palm. It's all good. The CIA will be breathing down their necks again soon, and Kate will keep needling him about Sophia and pretending she isn't jealous, and all will be well.

For now, Kate Beckett is smiling at him, and even the rotten taste of Hudson detritus at the back of his throat can't dampen his jubilation. Guardian angel, or adrenaline, or maybe just the force of his love for Kate, he never will know.

Or care, really. They're safe. None of the rest of it matters.


	4. Valkyrie

_**Valkyrie**_** \- immediately after the proposal**

* * *

Kate tugs her mouth away from Castle's and brings a hand up between their bodies, resting her fingertips at his cheek so she can look at her ring again. It really is big, not just her slender fingers making it seem that way.

"You like it? Because if not, we can change it." Castle - her _fiancé_ \- says, his palm still splayed wide between her shoulder blades as if to keep her close.

Not that she would go anywhere. He just _proposed_ to her and she is still reeling, wants to keep him near by as proof that she didn't just dream up the last ten minutes. "I love it, Castle. It's gorgeous. How long have you had it?"

"Remember Valentine's Day, when I bought you that gold skull bracelet to make up for the absolute failure of those earrings?" Kate lifts her right hand and her jacket sleeve falls down; she's wearing that bracelet right now. "Well I bought the ring then. That was the jewellery I really wanted to buy for you. I just wasn't sure of what you wanted, so I didn't give it to you."

Tilting her head to the side, Kate keeps him in place with those fingers still at his cheek and leans in to kiss him again. His mouth is soft and warm, like always, and the hand at her spine travels upward to curl at the back of her neck. When she breaks their kiss, it's to offer him a teasing smile, an amused little quirk of her mouth. "I just want you."

"Well that's not true." Castle huffs into the top of her head and she takes a step backward to frown at him. "You also want this job."

Kate lifts her chin, a surge of defiance coursing through her. Obviously, there's still a lot for them to talk about. "Yeah. It's a great opportunity, Rick."

His smile creases up at the corners of his eyes in little fissures of delight, his lips spread thin around his teeth. She knows that he doesn't often smile with his teeth on show like this, that the lopsidedness of his grin makes him self conscious, but she loves it.

It will always remind her of that first morning in his bed, when she promised him she really wanted to do this and he couldn't stop the joy from unravelling across his face.

"I know it is. I'm so proud of you, Beckett." He gruffs out. Their hands are next to their thighs and Castle reaches for hers, clutches at her fingers. She wishes he wouldn't touch her like that, as if he's still so afraid of losing her.

She just said yes to marrying him; she's not going anywhere. Except, well, DC. But not _yet_, Rick. "Thank you. Listen, I know we have a lot to talk about. I know we have to figure out how this will work. But can we shelve that for tomorrow? Right now, I just want to celebrate our engagement."

"Oh really?" An eyebrow skyrockets towards his hairline and he smirks, that almost-leer that used to rankle her so much that first year, that makes her feel giddy and enamoured with him now. "What did you have in mind?"

Heat rushes in at her cheeks and Kate bites at her lip, lets her hair spill forward to hide her face from him. Ridiculous, how long it's gotten, but for once she's glad for the thick mane of it even as she makes a mental note to get it cut.

Maybe short. She remembers the way Castle used to look at her when they first met, the ends of her hair just brushing her cheeks. Could be fun to tease him with that again. "Well yes, obviously that. But. . .I sort of want to tell people. Lanie, at least."

"How about you two grab dinner and then I'll meet you back home." Castle says easily. A frisson of delight rushes through her at that. Home.

She has been practically living with Rick these past few months, just like Esposito said to him. Castle had relayed Javi's words to her over dinner preparations, before he found the plane ticket in her jacket pocket and they had that calamitous, awful fight.

When he left, she had looked at the half-prepared meal for half a second or so and then dumped the whole thing in the trash and curled up on the couch with a carton of takeout instead. Even with his ring on her finger, her chest still aches with how much she's hurt him.

"No, Rick." She hums, flipping her hand over in his until their palms kiss. It's a looser hold, less raggedly desperate, and it has him smiling down at her. "I want us to tell people together."

"Okay." He laughs, coming in to kiss her again. They're still in front of the swingset Kate can't help but think of as theirs, and maybe it's time to relocate.

People had stared - she'd noticed even as her whole brain reeled at the sight of Castle on one knee in front of her - but they've lost everyone's interest now. No crowd of onlookers to pass through. "Let's get out of here. I'll text Lanie to meet us. Maybe Remy's?"

"Sounds great." He grins, and Kate takes a couple steps away until their arms are stretched taut between them. When she turns back Castle is staring at her, horrified, and her heart pounds ferociously.

Kate covers the distance back to him in two strides and her free hand comes up to settle at his cheek, her thumb circling underneath his eyes. "What's wrong? Castle-"

"I didn't tell you I love you." He blurts out, his jaw set hard in self-denigration. "All of that speech about not being able to imagine my life without you, and I didn't even say that I love you."

Despondent has never been a good look on him and Kate surges forward into a kiss, her teeth nibbling at his bottom lip until he kisses her back. They maybe get a little carried away for the park in the middle of the day, but she can't bring herself to care. Not with his ring on her finger a weight that throws off her movements, keeps her hyperaware.

"Castle. Rick, look at me." She hums when they break apart, waiting for his eyes to peel open and meet hers. "I know you love me. I've always known that. And it took me eleven months and the threat of imminent death to be able to say it to you at all. I understand."

"I do love you, Kate." He breathes against her cheek, his free hand spread wide at her back again. "So much. I can't wait to marry you."

"Me too." Kate grins, feels herself blushing again. It's only just now hitting her, really. This man is her favourite author, her best friend, her partner. And he wants to be her husband.

* * *

When Lanie gets the text to meet her best friend at Remy's, her heart plummets down to the pit of her stomach. God, she had really hoped that Castle and Beckett would figure things out. They're so good together, the most well balanced couple she knows, and she had thought that the two of them love each other enough to overcome whatever obstacles might get in their way.

Kate's distress call says otherwise.

Poking her head around the door of Dr Perlmutter's office, Lanie calls out to him. "I'm heading out for an hour. Call if you need me."

"Yeah." Sidney raises a hand in acknowledgement but doesn't glance up from the papers he's working on. It doesn't bother Lanie one bit.

Dr Perlmutter isn't the most popular ME; even generous, kind-hearted Castle hasn't ever been able to crack through the prickly exterior. But Dr Parish can match his dry, acerbic wit parry for parry and so the two of them have something of a stalemate.

Lanie takes the subway across town to the precinct and walks the few blocks to Remy's, her mind reeling. There are no words she can really say to make things easier for Kate. Castle is the love of her life, the only man Lanie has ever seen her friend truly go all in with, and losing him will tear Detective Beckett apart.

Two years ago now, Kate's life was in Lanie's hands as she straddled her friend and begged her to live. She was the one who grappled with Kate's heart, the one who forced it to keep going until she could hand her best friend over into the care of the surgeons.

This time, she's afraid there's nothing she'll be able to do to soothe Kate's heart. She'll be a shoulder to cry on, someone to listen if Kate wants to talk it out, but she feels utterly useless.

Inside the restaurant, Lanie spots her friend easily and makes her way through the crowd of tables to reach her. It's only when she comes around to the front of the booth that she sees that Kate has company; Castle is with her, hidden from view by the high back of the bench seat, and their hands are knotted in the middle of the table.

It blindsides her. She figured that if those two made up, they'd really. . .make up. Lanie had assumed that if they talked it out and realised what colossal idiots they both are being, they'd disappear off to the loft and no one would hear from them for the rest of the day.

Sliding into the seat next to her best friend, Lanie nudges her shoulder against Kate's and smirks. "Am I to assume that you two talked it out?"

"Something like that." Kate grins, and then she tugs her left hand out of her jacket pocket and splays her fingers, holds them up for Dr Parish to see.

Holy crap.

Lanie's brain goes completely blank, like a whitewash, as she stares at the enormous rock decorating her best friend's ring finger. She's always thought that once Castle and Beckett admitted that they are completely crazy about each other, marriage and babies would be the next logical step; these last few weeks have made her realise that these two are not finished being ridiculous when it comes to each other.

Then again, the engagement ring on Beckett's finger says otherwise. "Oh my god! It's huge."

"That's what Kate said too." Rick laughs, squeezing Kate's fingers where they're still tangled up with his own. "I don't know why you're both so surprised. Only the best for my future wife."

His future _wife_. The words send a cascade of joy through Lanie; she can't even imagine how Kate must feel. "It's gorgeous. You did good, Castle. I'm so happy for you two."

"Thanks, Lanie." Kate says quietly. Lanie has come to know this look so well over the past year, the shy jubilation of it. The very first time she saw it was right after Beckett's first case after coming back from her suspension.

Lanie gave her best friend a couple days to get settled, and then she appeared at Beckett's apartment and wore her down. She still can't believe those two actually thought she bought the whole _nobody that you would know_ routine. As if Castle would still be hanging around, watching Kate be happy with somebody else. As if there could possibly be anyone else who could make Kate look luminescent with joy.

When Kate eventually admitted that yes, her mystery man is none other than her favourite mystery writer, she had curled up on the couch and stared at her knees and smiled in exactly the same way as she's doing now.

"So you're not taking the job, then?" Lanie can't help but ask. Her curiosity has always been a force outside of her control; it's why she does the job that she does.

Kate stiffens by her side, but across the table from them Castle is grinning. "No, she's taking it. I'd never ask her to give up such an amazing opportunity. We'll figure out the rest of it as it comes."

"Good for you guys." Lanie grins, throwing an arm around Kate's shoulders to bring her in for a sideways hug. "Does anyone else know yet?"

"Not yet. So keep quiet, okay?" Kate huffs, driving her elbow into the fleshy place below Lanie's ribs.

She yelps, glares at her friend but her mock irritation dissolves into a ridiculous grin when she sees how happy Kate looks. And peaceful, too. As if all of the turmoil of the past few weeks has given way to a bright new future for Beckett and Castle.

Which, yeah. . .it sort of has. "I can keep a secret, Beckett. And it's something to hold over Javi's head, right?"

"Poor Sito." Castle sighs, but there's a wicked hint of mirth at the corners of his mouth. "Always the last to pick up on anything. Maybe we should just not tell him, let him figure it out and redeem himself."

"I want to tell him and Ryan together." Kate says, but then her fiancé pouts and she laughs, shaking her head. "But that doesn't mean it has to be now."

"They'll be happy for you. Everyone will. You know you two have always been that couple that everyone else aspires to be like. Half the detectives in the precinct are now refusing to settle for anything less than a love like Caskett." Lanie can't help but tease. It is actually true, at least in part; everyone has been rooting for the two of them since day one.

"Oh god, don't." Kate groans, covering her face in her hands. "We don't need a shipper name. This is real life."

"Sorry, honey." Lanie laughs, squeezing Kate's shoulder. Beckett is blushing hard now, chewing at her bottom lip in embarrassment, but beneath all of that there's a quiet, determined joy.

This is what Kate has always wanted. Lanie can still remember years ago, before Castle was around, Kate drinking a little too much one night and curling up on Lanie's couch, admitting to her best friend that she wanted to get married someday, wanted to have a family, but she was afraid that no one would ever put in the effort of falling in love with her.

And then Richard Castle strode right on into her life in those ridiculous reflective sunglasses, the shadow of scruff at his jaw, and Lanie knew that he was the man for Kate. Even if it did take her three years to admit to it.

Lanie gives in to her curious nature again and asks the questions that have flooded her mouth from the moment she saw the ring. About the proposal, about their plans for the future. And as Castle and Beckett answer her questions, tentative about the journey but sure of the destination, Lanie finds herself relaxing back into the booth and listening to the two of them volley shards of sentences back and forth.

If these two can figure it out, perhaps she and Javier can do the same.


End file.
